


Concerning Hobbits.

by elveriamoir



Category: The Hobbit
Genre: M/M, Romance, Short Story, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1784845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elveriamoir/pseuds/elveriamoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short story that I was a little hyped up about WGW when I wrote it. </p>
<p>A Bilbo and Bofur story because there are simply not enough out there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Blame Peter Jackson for it. The scene before the Goblin Caves really tugged at my heart strings.

Concerning Hobbits-Strangers.

Now to an outsider hobbits came across as polite, overly timid, gentle creatures with no love of adventure and very little interest beyond their gardens and meals. That is not to say they did not have any of these characteristics, but like any other race they had their secrets. So when faced with a houseful of strange dwarves and a strong attraction to one of them in particular, Bilbo Baggins was torn with what he should do. Their antics at the dinner table had him fighting down the urge to party and yet as he watched carefully there was very little physical interaction. His mind in disarray he snuck out of his kitchen door just as they started throwing the dishes around his home. He leant against the hill-side with a relieved sigh and stuck his pipe firmly between his teeth, inhaling the smoke and holding it deep into his lungs. The heady rush it gave him thrummed through his veins, and he could feel his muscles relaxing, a wide smile growing on his face. He looked around the night and spotted his neighbour and old friend Hamfast Gamgee leaning on his fence smoking his own pipe. Pushing away from the hillside Bilbo sauntered down the path, "Evenin' Hamfast," he mumbled around the stem of his pipe. 

Hamfast raised an eyebrow, blowing a perfect smoke ring into the night, the sweet scent of his weed hanging in the air, "Evenin' Bilbo," he nodded pushing himself upright, "Nice night for a drink."

Bilbo smiled glad they were on the same level, "Aye Hamfast certainly is," he offered an arm, "Shall we?" Hamfast chuckled and inhaled another lungful of heady smoke as jumped the fence to link Bilbo's arm. The two hobbit's turned their footsteps onto the path leading to the nearest tavern.

The rush of heat greeted them as they pushed through the door, as did a sudden silence as the patrons turned to check who had wandered into their midst. Bilbo merely smiled and waved his pipe at them, causing a great whoop to go up from the gathered hobbits. The air of the tavern was heavy with sweet smelling blue smoke and as Bilbo and Hamfast wandered up to the bar, lively music started up again. A tankard in one hand and his pipe in the other Bilbo leant against the bar with Hamfast at his side. He nudged an elbow into his friend's side when a young hobbit lass took to dancing on a table top. To his delight Hamfast blushed beet-red and it only took Bilbo seconds to convince the other hobbit to join her.

Drella smiled warmly as Hamfast approached the table, and leant low to give him a hand up and a show of her impressive cleavage. As soon as he was on the table Hamfast twirled her and pulled her close to him. She started to move sinuously her back flush against his chest, and he closed a work worn hand around her hips, following her movements with his own body. Before long she had a hand snaked around his neck. Hamfast smirked across the room at Bilbo and took another lungful of his pipe-weed's smoke. He ran his hand up from Drella's waist and tangled it in her hair as he did. He roughly tugged her head back and when she tilted her head so she could see him, he leant over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her red lips. Blue smoke escaped from their entwined lips, and she turned in his grasp mouth never leaving his.

As his friend got cosy with Drella, Bilbo merely rolled his eyes before letting them wander about the room. He smirked when he saw a group of hobbits he had drank with as a tween and meandered his way across to them. He was hailed as soon as he got near and pulled to sit beside them at a table. Grunting in annoyance as they nearly spilled his drink, he straddle the bench and loosened the top button on his shirt. They soon had him involved in a game of dice, and before long Bilbo was a great deal richer and almost drunk. His cousins Samel and Reith slid beside him after he'd won the last game and he smirked as Reith ran a hand up his thigh, the adventuring limb stopping just short of grasping him. Bilbo turned his head and grinned toothily at Samel over his shoulder for a second before grasping the front of the other hobbit's shirt and pulling him into a rough kiss, sliding the hand around to the back of Samel's neck. Encouraged rather than repulsed Reith slid so he was straddling Bilbo's thighs, dipping his head to rain kisses down the arched neck and visible collar bone. Bilbo grabbed the back of his head with his free hand and curled his fingers in the red strands to tug sharply. This earned him a nip that nearly broke the skin and he groaned into Samel's mouth. Samel's hands settled on Bilbo's hips as their mouths fought for dominance, Reith's hands settling to tangle with them as he moved lower down Bilbo's chest and back up his neck.

The party at the White Wolf hit full swing, the songs became more risqué, the music and dancing more devious. Ale and wine flowed freely, as unaware of the strangers gathered at Bag End the hobbits of Hobbiton gave into the call of alcohol, pipe weed and the music. Bodies moved against each other in scandalous dance both on and off the dance floor. Couples clinched in corners and un-partnered hobbits (both adults and tweens) enjoyed each other.

The moon was high in the sky when they were finally turned out. Dishevelled and stumbling Bilbo and Hamfast turned their feet homeward. Bilbo left his friend at the gate of his home and wandered up the hill to Bag End whistling a tavern ditty as he went. Uncaring if his guests heard him he tramped happily through the front door, sliding his bracers off his shoulders as he merrily made his way to the kitchen. He stopped in surprise at the piles of clean, whole dishes pilled on his table, "We did the dishes Master Baggins," came the lilting voice of the dwarf with the funny hat. Bilbo looked at him carefully, he was quite cute, it was just a shame he couldn't remember his name. He took a step closer to the dwarf, uncaring of the alcohol on his breath, his unbuttoned (and untucked) shirt or the marks likely littering his neck. Bilbo watched as the dwarf's eyes widened at his blown pupils and stepped into the dwarf's personal space as the gaze travelled over his swollen lips and the bruises on his neck and visible chest. He smirked as he managed to back the slightly taller male into a corner, arms bracketing the dwarf as his hands grasped the worktop either side of the be-hatted male's hips. He bit his lip and left only an inch between their bodies as he watched the understanding of his dishevelled sate creep into the dwarf's eyes and a blush steel up the un-bearded part of his face. Bilbo released his bottom lip as he made eye contact with the dwarf, he licked his lips as he fought the urge to lick down the hidden column of the other male's throat to find out how far that blush went.

"Master Baggins!" gasped the dwarf, as he realised he was cornered, "Master Baggins erm…" 

Bilbo swallowed as the dwarf pulled his plump under-lip between sharp white teeth, he blink imagining what that mouth would feel like on his skin, "Aye?" he questioned his own voice husky. 

"What…I mean…why…me… how…" the dwarf trailed off clearly flustered and Bilbo took a step back dropping his arms and raised a questioning eyebrow. When that got no response he allowed his eyes to trail slowly over the dwarf's form, moving from the top of his head down to his booted feet and back up again.

"Aye?" he questioned again, forcing himself to leave a gap between them and not just surge forward and take the dwarf's mouth in a bruising kiss. He was starting to get a horrid feeling that dwarves did not mess around outside of a relationship. He tilted his head and took another step back hitching his polite smile onto his face and moved to straighten himself up, "Thank you for the dishes Master dwarf," he bit back a wince at the hurt that flashed briefly in the other male's eyes and made a mental note to find out his name without asking, before he continued, "It was very kind of you all, but you are guests in my home you did not have to do anything."

Bilbo took another step away from the dwarf and turned away trying to remember how he was supposed to act around strangers in the Shire. He took a deep breath and instantly wished he hadn't as the stranger's scent of leather, pine smoke and something deeper hit his sense. He closed his eyes desperately struggling to control himself, the ale and pipe weed didn't help, and neither did his remembrance of the stranger's name.

Bofur stood frozen even as Master Baggins stepped away from him. He was unsure what had just happened, he was embarrassed at what he suspected Master Baggins had been up to and yet he was intrigued by it at the same time. He felt hurt that the hobbit couldn't remember his name, he was shocked at how quickly he'd been cornered and yet most of all he desperately wanted whatever had happened to keep heading where it had been. He bit his lip and stepped forward placing a gentle hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Master Baggins?" he started quietly as he felt the hobbit tense under his hands and then stopped unsure where to go from there. 

"Please don't Master Bofur," he heard the hobbit gasp.

Bofur frowned and stepped closer so there was only an inch between his chest and Master Baggins' back, tightening his grip as he did, "Don't what Master Baggins? " he asked, still unsure of where anything was leading, only knowing he wanted to see the end. He heard the hobbit gasp and relaxed his grip. "Oh I'm so sorry Master Baggins," he whispered stepping back and wringing his hands, he didn't realise he had been backed into the corner until he felt hands on his hips. He snapped his head up, knowing his cheeks were glowing and stared wide eyed at the hobbit in front of him.

Bilbo's control was struggling as he felt Bofur's hand on his shoulder, the other male's heat spreading easily through the thin cloth of his shirt. At the apology he had turned and interest growing further stalked after the now dismayed dwarf. Gently and cautiously he place his hands on Bofur's hips, giving the other male a chance to push him away. When no move was made to get him to back away and Bofur merely gazed at him with a blush staining his cheeks, Bilbo looked into the dwarf's eyes trying to figure out just what he should do. He felt his lust rise as he gazed into worried, and embarrassed chocolate coloured eyes. He took the last step forward, removing the gap between their bodies, tilting his head back slightly to keep looking into those expressive eyes. He raised onto the balls of his feet, one hand leaving the narrow hips to trail up the wide chest to stroke through the thick hair gently. He was surprised when the action got him a soft groan and almost instantly the dwarf bit his lip. Bilbo licked his own and leant in close, allowing the words to ghost the dwarf's mouth, "Last chance to back out Master Bofur," he whispered.

Bofur suddenly knew where this was heading, and was torn with what he should do. His hands came up for one of them to wrap around the hobbit's waist and the other smoothed up his back, untucking the shirt again as he did, "Master Baggins I…" Bofur closed his eyes attempting to decide what he wanted. No, he thought as Master Baggins merely held his place, that wasn't true, he knew what he wanted to do. He just didn't know whether he should do it. Dwarves were celibate until bonding and that included kissing. If he was even thinking about taking that step with the hobbit then he should probably explain this. His brain stuttered as Master Baggins' hot breath fluttered against his lips. He swallowed fighting the urge to simply press his lips to those of the smaller male's. He tightened his fingers desperately hoping that Master Baggins would be able to read his mind, yet all that happened was the hand in his hair tugged it gently and Bofur felt his knees weaken. He could hear his own breathing becoming uneasy, and he could feel his muscles shaking. The hand in his hair gentled again, and the fingers on his hips started to rub in soothing circles. The new sensations shut his brain down and Bofur tilted his head down to meet the lips of Master Baggins.

Bilbo kept the kisses gentle at first, but the sounds coming from the dwarf and the tightening of the fingers on his hip were pushing him to the edge of his control. Bofur drew away to catch his breath and Bilbo found himself chasing his lips, before forcing himself to still. He was going to let Master Bofur control the kiss even if it killed him to do so. The dwarf was obviously struggling with what they were doing and Bilbo would let him take all the time he needed, hell Bilbo knew he would let the dwarf pull away from him and end it there and then if he had to. "Mahal," whispered Bofur and Bilbo watched as the dwarf place gentle fingers against his lips, smiling softly. 

He shut his eyes and steeled himself again, "Master Bofur if you…" the fingers were on his own lips and Bilbo froze, desperately trying not to pull them between his lips. 

"Nay," whispered Bofur, "I think you can drop the title now Master Baggins." Bilbo held still as Bofur shifted his large hand back to Bilbo's back, he kept his eyes on the dwarf's trying to get a read. Bofur continued still smiling gently, "Would you mind if I called you Bilbo?"

Bofur froze when Bilbo pulled his head back to look at him, and his nerves crept back as he waited for an answer, maybe he had pushed too far with the first name thing. Maybe this was just a bit of fun for the hobbit, "or not," he rambled, "I mean I can still call you…Mahal!" he broke off, eyes rolling momentarily as Bilbo pressed still closer, sliding the hand on Bofur's hip around to grab his ass. "Does that mean?" he watched as Bilbo nodded the smile growing on his own face again. "Can I kiss you again?" he all but whispered. He watched Bilbo's eyes grow dark in the seconds between his question and Bilbo claiming his mouth. There was nothing gentle about the hobbit's kisses this time and Bofur could only hold on and try to match Bilbo movement for movement. His knees felt weak and his head was swimming. The hand in his hair had tightened, short nails dragging over his scalp and sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He groaned loudly completely lost in the sensations.

Bilbo was still holding back, but when Bofur moaned he felt a shudder of arousal run through him and he pulled back, grasping frantically for control. "Bofur," he gasped, "By the Goddess Bofur, I," he took a deep breath, hands still curled possessively in Bofur's hair and splayed on his arse. "Dammit, you have no idea what you are doing to me." He looked up into now nearly black eyes, breathing heavily, "You have no idea how much I am trying not to push you." He tugged gently on the strands of hair in his hand, watching as pleasure flashed across the dwarf's face, "You have no idea how much I want you." He hissed and Bofur stilled looking at him with wide eyes. Bilbo bit his lips worrying he'd pushed too far and he tried to step back, Bofur hauled him back to his chest, one hand now on the bare skin of his waist and the other clutching the back of his shirt.

"Mahal Bilbo," Bofur groaned, and Bilbo shuddered at how wrecked his voice sounded, "Kiss me again." When faced with that offer what was Bilbo to do? He surged forwards claiming the already swollen lips with his own, licking along their close coaxing Bofur to open up for him again. He was pressed flush to Bofur's front, his hands grasping desperately at the dwarf when a loud knocking broke into his revive.

Bilbo felt a mess when he opened the door, barely noticing as he was circled by the tall dwarf. "Looks more like a grocer than a burglar!" okay that caught his attention, and he turned with a snarl on the newest stranger, answering his questions with sass. His anger fled when he turned on his heel and met Bofur's worried eyes. He looked at the mess he'd made of the careful braids with appreciation, "What by Mahal happened to you Mister Bofur?" snarked the new stranger as he stalked into Bilbo's dining room. 

Bilbo bit his lip as he watched Bofur flush and then felt anger surge at the down cast expression on the dwarf's face. He slipped to Bofur's hand and curled his fingers into those of the dwarf stopping him from following the others into the dining room. He carefully backed the dwarf against the hallway wall, hands falling onto the narrow hips again. "Ache, ignore him!" he whispered, arching up to reach Bofur's mouth and pressing their bodies together as he did so. He watched in delight as the sadness left Bofur's face and the eyes darkened again, "I know, and you know, and it is really none of his business!" Bilbo purred, lips barely brushing Bofur's as he talked. The dwarf's hands crept around Bilbo's back and settled on his ass. "Dammit Bofur," Bilbo groaned, "I swear you are trying to kill me." He pressed a kiss to the dwarf's open lips and wiggled out of his grip to finally find out why there were thirteen strange dwarves in his home.


	2. Bath Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Bofur at Rivendale.

Bath Time. 

 

Bilbo was exhausted, dirty and becoming more than annoyed as the company stumbled into Rivendale. He’d had very little time to interact with Bofur since Bag End, the dwarf withdrawing to be distant and rather impersonal since he had managed to make Bilbo faint. To say this had confused our hobbit was an understatement and it was a puzzle his brain was unable to unravel at the minuet. On top of Bofur’s distance he’d been belittled, sneered at, nearly eaten (several times) and turned into a troll’s hankie since leaving his home. He'd awoken several mornings uncomfortably turned on, and with the dwarves surrounding him had been able to do little about it. His temper was close to breaking point and he bore the rough handling by his companions with ill-grace, although he managed to keep his reactions to several glowers rather than physical harm. Their actions at the meal simply sent his temper through the roof and he stormed off after the elf showing them to their rooms without a second glance at the company. He dug up enough manners to thank his guide before slipping through the heavy wooden door and sinking to the floor in a disgruntled mess, barely noticing the layout of the room. Now he was alone and still his mind wouldn’t shut down. He found himself thinking on what he could have done to drive Bofur away. He’d managed to get Balin to talk about dwarven traditions while they had been travelling and had found out that dwarves simply didn’t interact in the same way as hobbits outside of a marriage bond. Bilbo had been stunned and nearly blurted out that Bofur had seemed happy enough to make out with him, before his brain had caught up and he’d stopped himself at uttering the word “But…By the Goddess…” Balin had looked at him funny but thankfully didn’t pressurise him. Bilbo had thought it was because the older dwarf hadn’t wanted to pry into what would have been an embarrassing subject for him. Bilbo leant more heavily against the door at his back, ignoring the pins and needles starting in his protesting feet. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. He had originally been looking for a quick but good time with the handsome dwarf, and yet he’d given the lead to the other male, allowing him to back away when he wanted, Bofur hadn’t and so Bilbo had assumed something would follow their bout of kissing. Instead he’d fainted at Bofur’s teasing and the dwarf had withdrew to be friendly but only politely so. Bilbo grasped his curls and tugged sharply at them, he was giving himself a headache. He didn’t know why he was so worried, after-all he had only been after a quick tumble and yet the thought of Bofur moving on to someone else, anyone else set a burning in his chest. The thought that he’d never feel those rough fingers on his own skin again, never hear the delightful sounds that spilled from the full mouth had Bilbo near to tears. He shook himself and pushed from the floor, swaying unsteadily as he attempted to ground himself. Deciding he was just tired and his current situation was nothing a hot bath and a goodnight's sleep (on a bed, alone) wouldn’t fix Bilbo started to fight his way out of his pack and layers of clothing. 

Bofur had spent nearly every night since Bag End with confusing dreams. Dreams that had caused him to awake with a groan-gasp and an aching erection. He’d spent the last few nights of the journey forcing himself to stay awake so he wouldn't clue his family (or Mahal forbid) the rest of the Company in on just what he was dreaming. He’d found himself unable to fully face Bilbo after making the smaller male faint, he was unsure how to apologise to him and since the hobbit had made no mention of their kissing at Bag End Bofur had grown to believe he had acted in a manner that would shame his family if it became known. Yet his dreams would not desist. The small hands in his hair and warm lips on his own had him gasping awake more often than not, and he would have to physically wrestle with himself to stop him crossing the sleeping area to Bilbo’s shivering form. He’d tried courting the hobbit in his own way, tearing his clothing to give the handkerchief the smaller man so desperately wanted, giving up a portion of his own food, and not forcing his full focus on the smaller male. It hadn’t seemed to work and he was left at a table in Rivendale staring at the retreating back of the Company burglar as Bilbo left without a backwards glance. He pushed to his own feet and had to grip the edge of the table as the world swayed, he tore his gaze away from Bilbo’s retreating form and made short work of shouldering his pack and mattock. Bofur huffed as he limped towards one of the elves that had been indicated as their guides for the duration of the evening. The elf seemed to take pity on him and Bofur soon found himself facing a heavy wooden door. He smiled wanly up at the elf and forced himself not to shrug off the shoulder pat he got in return. He staggered into the room and shut the door quietly behind him. He’d barely taken two steps into the room when he tripped over something on the floor and found himself studying the red parquet flooring from an intimate distance. Bofur found his energy ebbing and he laid his forehead against the cool floor with a groan. 

“Hello?” Bilbo was awoken from his doze in the bath by a muffled clatter from the bedroom. The fed-up groan that followed it had him scrabbling from the water and rushing into the other room to check no-one was hurt. He slid to a stop beside the face down dwarf. “Bofur?” he questioned gently, placing a hand on the other’s neck. He was dreaming, Bilbo decided, because there was no way Bofur was in his room, while he was naked and dripping water onto the floor. He forced down a blush when Bofur stirred, there would be time enough to be embarrassed when he had found out if his dwarf was alright and why he was in his rooms. 

Bofur heard Bilbo’s voice above him and the gentle hand on the skin of his neck was sending shivers down his spine, “Bilbo?” he rumbled into the floor, wondering if his lack of sleep had finally made him crack up, “What are you doing in my room?” he turned his head tiredly to look at the hobbit and froze. 

Bilbo’s brain took a moment to understand the question, especially as it had been stuck on the fact he’d just called Bofur ‘his’ dwarf. “Erm…excuse me?” he asked, moving his hand to rest the back of it on Bofur’s now visible forehead, “I was shown to this room and told it was mine.” He looked down into Bofur’s face and found the other determinedly trying not to look anywhere but his face, “Elf?” he questioned and got a nod in response. “Bofur?” he prodded the dwarf, and when he got no response ran his hands unconsciously through the tangled hair. 

 

Bofur felt his eyes flutter shut at the contact, the small portion of his brain that was awake noting that his dreams would be ten times as bad now he had seen nearly all of Bilbo’s person. He bit his lip to stop a moan escaping as Bilbo’s soothing fingers gently untangled the mess of his braids. He hadn’t realised how tired he was until it dawned on him that he was letting Bilbo do what he liked. 

Bilbo was now worried, the friendly cheerful dwarf was acting like an exhausted cat that was relishing in a tummy rub. He pulled the almost purring dwarf to his feet, his nimble fingers making sort work of the straps and buckles littering his person. When Bofur put up no protest Bilbo steered him towards the bath, helping the exhausted dwarf shed layers as he went. It took far too much effort to keep his hands to himself and yet Bilbo managed. The groan he got from Bofur as the dwarf sank into the hot water nearly snapped his resolve, but yet he managed to keep his hands to himself, his brain reminding him that Bofur had withdrawn from him and he’d sworn to let the dwarf do so. He went to move back and let the dwarf bath in peace when a work worn hand closed around his wrist stopping him. Bilbo finally met Bofur’s eyes and something in them had him biting his lower lip and stilling. 

Bofur finally snapped out of his haze when he stepped into the sinfully hot water, but just barely. He couldn’t believe he’d let a non-family member see he undressed and yet the hands had left his hair and at this moment in time that was the most important thing. He reached out a hand and grabbed Bilbo’s wrist, gently urging the hobbit to stay. When he got no response other than Bilbo freezing he turned so he was kneeling in the tub. He ran the hand already holding Bilbo’s wrist over the smooth skin of the other male’s arm and used his other hand to push a stray curl from Bilbo’s eyes. “Stay,” Bofur whispered, wondering why he voice was so gravelly. He was waking up as he stared into Bilbo’s eyes. “If you want to that is,” Bofur could feel himself going red, “I would appreciate some help with my hair.” He bit his lip wondering if Bilbo understood what he was offering, or if the hobbit would think he was being rude. He glanced down and shifted to face away from Bilbo when he got no response after a while. A gentle hand on his bare shoulder stopped him and he froze. “You will have to get it wet if you want me to wash it.” Bilbo’s voice sounded breathless and Bofur dunked under the water not daring to look back at the hobbit. He came up spluttering slightly, with his back still to Bilbo. 

Bilbo couldn’t believe just what Bofur had asked of him, he knew by now to be asked to do a dwarf’s hair (especially if you were not family) was a huge deal. He couldn’t have refused that request, now he just had to figure out if Bofur had meant it as a courting gesture or had spoken in his sleepy state without thinking. Bilbo slipped into the hot water as the dwarf submerged, he was forcing himself not to over think and honestly not succeeding very well. He hooked a bottle of liquid soap from shelves on the side of the bath and was relieved to find it was sandalwood and mint rather than one of the floral makes he’d had the misfortune of opening at first. His brain stopped in it’s thoughts as Bofur remerged from the water and Bilbo swallowed hard as his eyes followed a drop of water running down the expanse of pale skin in front of him. “Bofur” he gasped, feeling his mouth go dry, “By the Goddess Bofur you are beautiful.” He stepped towards the dwarf just as the taller man turned in surprise at his words. Bilbo allowed his eyes to rove appreciatively over the muscle bound arms, broad shoulders, a well-defined chest and along the angular tattoos. Bilbo reached questioning fingers forward and, when Bofur made no move to stop him, traced along one of the startling dark lines decorating the dwarf’s skin, unconsciously moving closer to the other male. He paused when Bofur drew in a shuddering breath and flashed his eyes to the dwarf’s face. Bilbo drew in his own breath at the burning look in Bofur’s eyes and he threw caution to the winds. Using a similar move to those he had used at Bag End he somehow backed Bofur to the edge of the bath, and invaded his personal space. He grinned cockily up at the taller male, “Last chance to back out Master Bofur,” he purred, deliberately trailing his fingertips down the tensed muscles of the other’s stomach, before detouring to rest them lightly on the slight hips. 

Bofur could feel his breaths coming in gasps as he allowed himself to be backed into a corner, somehow the fact that his hair was not being washed didn’t matter. All that mattered was this was so similar yet so different to what had happened at Bag End. The cool tiles at his back sent goose-bumps across his skin, but the discomfort was soon chased away when Bilbo dragged his fingers over his stomach. Bofur bit hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself moaning, and he applauded himself for doing quite well, at least until Bilbo’s words sunk in. Those same words had been growled at him in Bag End. Bofur gasped, closing his eyes in a silent prayer for strength, this was something he wanted so badly that it hurt. The fingers on his hips slid against his wet skin slightly as Bilbo traced across another tattoo, and Bofur dared open his eyes and look at the hobbit. Bilbo’s eyes were fixed solely on his own and Bofur took courage from the fact and reached out to catch a droplet rolling down Bilbo’s chest. The fluttered sigh he got had him feeling braver and he soothed his palm up the chest to rest on Bilbo’s shoulder momentarily before tangling his fingers in the hobbit’s hair. Remembering the pleasure Bilbo had given him simply through playing with his hair Bofur ran his hand through the curls as his other had dropped to Bilbo’s lower back, forcing them together. Bofur stopped moving at the new sensations flooding through his body, he threw his head back and gritted his teeth against the onslaught of information flooding from his body to his brain. So much soft skin against his, branding him as if it were fire, slight slip where the water eased the friction, his eyes fluttered shut and he fought to steady his breathing. With his eyes shut he didn’t see Bilbo’s wicked grin and so jumped and groaned when a warm mouth settled on his collar bone. He dropped the hand in Bilbo’s hair back onto the smaller male’s shoulder and tightened his grip. Almost without thought Bofur tilted his head allowing Bilbo more access to his throat and neck. 

Bilbo knew he was smirking wickedly, but the invitation had been given and accepted, this time with Bofur making the first move. Instead of kissing up the expanse of pale neck though, he moved down the chest to run his tongue over one of those intricate tattoos. The groan this got him made his smirk grow and he swore he would talk about things properly in the morning. If people thought dwarves were possessive they knew nothing about hobbits. Whether Bofur knew it or not he was Bilbo’s dwarf. With that thought in mind Bilbo kissed his way back up the broad planes of Bofur’s chest and latched on to the crook of his neck. Bofur’s fingers tightened on his hips as he scrapped his teeth across the skin at the join of the dwarf’s neck and shoulder, before biting down lightly. When he wasn’t pushed away Bilbo ran one hand around to rest on Bofur’s lower back, the other gripping the narrow hip punishingly. He ran his tongue over the mark he had left before leaning his forehead on Bofur’s now heaving chest, “I thought I was washing your hair Bofur?”

Bofur was lost in a world of sensations and it took a while for Bilbo’s words to sink through the haze. He shook his head slightly attempting to ground himself. “Hair?” He swallowed embarrassed when his voice came out wrecked. “I’m sorry Bilbo yes I did ask you to do my braids for me.” He stopped and pushed Bilbo from him slightly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it is an intimate gesture in my…” Bofur trailed off as Bilbo covered his mouth with a delicate hand. “I know Bofur,” he growled and Bofur felt like throwing caution to the winds as long as Bilbo would keep talking in that voice. Common sense chose that moment to interfere and Bofur pulled the hand away from his mouth, smiling softly across at Bilbo. “Would you then?” The blinding smile he got in response lifted the worries from his mind.


End file.
